The "match the hatch" idea certainly has merit. For about a month four summers ago on Haida Gwaii, when we cleaned our salmon, we found that they were stuffed with 1-to-2" very-juvenile reddish rockfish. After the first time we saw that, I started running a cheap 3" New Zealand-made spoon called a Lucky Something-or-other that I'd brought back from Auckland because it looked like a slightly-obese needlefish, but with red scale-borders on the surface, and red fins. Dinner was served! The spoon significantly outfished any other hardware, and also bait. Interestingly, big springs would come virtually to the surface to take it trolled without a weight, or reeled up when there was a fish on the other line. After that month, production on that spoon fell off to insufficient to run it, and anchovies and cut-plug herring ruled supreme.
I noted above on this thread some speculations about salmon behavior that were based on observations made from looking at fish in an aquarium. I'd be skeptical about drawing many conclusions based on the behaviour of probably-tropical species of various degrees of aggressiveness in an environment that features a watching human head a tenth the size of the whole artificial habitat appearing at feeding time while food drops from the "sky"!
In contrast, I've had some opportunities while snorkeling and free-diving to observe schools of predator fish responding to trolled presentations under conditions that are far more real-life than an aquarium. On the Caribbean island of Bonaire, it's possible to snorkel with the current for miles along a pretty fishy coast. Over the course of a couple of weeks, we found that the pomfrets, permits, jacks and mackerel that were the principal schooling predators there were clustered in just three locations out of about 20 well-spaced snorkel-dive entry points spread over about 5 miles of coast. The fish became habituated to us as free-divers and even snorkelers very quickly, often schooling within reach, and the incredible water clarity made observation easy.
Granted we weren't observing salmon, but there were many similarities. The predators we were seeing were feeding on schooling bait, and on several occasions, boats trolled through using a rigged bait near the surface, so there were conclusions to be drawn. The first was that the biggest fish, permit in the +/- 20-pound range, hung just at the bottom of the schools of a couple of hundred mixed predators. The other permits, pompano, etc. were also sorted by size, with smaller individuals closest to the surface.
When the occasional troller came by, inevitably, unlike in an aquarium where the most aggressive feeder becomes the biggest fish, then bullies the rest, the smaller, faster fish were first to the bait. Fortunately for us, those trollers showed the same tendency as low-IQ trollers the world over, and when faced with miles of barren water punctuated with only three good locations, they rejoiced over their undersized chance catch for a few minutes, then zipped off on their fruitless way, rather than circle back over the feeding school. Bless their hearts!
When the strong longshore tidal currents started moving schools of bait, it was again the smaller fish that were first to respond, and their activity started to excite the schooling predators. One sign that the bait was in trouble was when the whole school of predators started defecating in virtual unison. Then they started hitting the passing balls of prey, again with smaller fish leading the charge. Only when the feeding was really in full progress did the bigger pompanos and permits get active. Interestingly, on a couple of occasions, when midsized individual barracuda tried to move in, even much smaller pompano would strike at the barracuda, driving them off.
Once the action of the small and medium fish had tightened the bait into large, tight balls, the big permit would slash up through them from below, circling back and down to pick up cripples to add to what they'd caught cleanly. That scattered the bait balls, until the quicker small predators could surround and reform them.
I drew a few conclusions that I think have given me some testable clues about trolling for springs. One is that big feeders are often stationed below the bait schools, be they herring, needlefish, or other juveniles, and they only stir their bulk when the target is worthwhile. Their tendency to swing back down after cripples means that if you have a wounded or dead-looking herring wobbling below a school of whatever bait, it has a good chance of getting whacked, and if it's a big herring, smaller salmon won't be able to ingest it. Another hypothesis is that since the smaller, quicker fish respond to a lure or bait first, circling back after a strike if you can do it without screwing up the traffic pattern pays rewards. More than anything else I've seen that influences trolling success, marking the spot when you get a strike, cutting back on long celebrations when you've landed that fish, and getting back to the bait as fast as possible to try for any tyees that got beat to the lunch is absolutely essential.
I noted above on this thread some speculations about salmon behavior that were based on observations made from looking at fish in an aquarium. I'd be skeptical about drawing many conclusions based on the behaviour of probably-tropical species of various degrees of aggressiveness in an environment that features a watching human head a tenth the size of the whole artificial habitat appearing at feeding time while food drops from the "sky"!
In contrast, I've had some opportunities while snorkeling and free-diving to observe schools of predator fish responding to trolled presentations under conditions that are far more real-life than an aquarium. On the Caribbean island of Bonaire, it's possible to snorkel with the current for miles along a pretty fishy coast. Over the course of a couple of weeks, we found that the pomfrets, permits, jacks and mackerel that were the principal schooling predators there were clustered in just three locations out of about 20 well-spaced snorkel-dive entry points spread over about 5 miles of coast. The fish became habituated to us as free-divers and even snorkelers very quickly, often schooling within reach, and the incredible water clarity made observation easy.
Granted we weren't observing salmon, but there were many similarities. The predators we were seeing were feeding on schooling bait, and on several occasions, boats trolled through using a rigged bait near the surface, so there were conclusions to be drawn. The first was that the biggest fish, permit in the +/- 20-pound range, hung just at the bottom of the schools of a couple of hundred mixed predators. The other permits, pompano, etc. were also sorted by size, with smaller individuals closest to the surface.
When the occasional troller came by, inevitably, unlike in an aquarium where the most aggressive feeder becomes the biggest fish, then bullies the rest, the smaller, faster fish were first to the bait. Fortunately for us, those trollers showed the same tendency as low-IQ trollers the world over, and when faced with miles of barren water punctuated with only three good locations, they rejoiced over their undersized chance catch for a few minutes, then zipped off on their fruitless way, rather than circle back over the feeding school. Bless their hearts!
When the strong longshore tidal currents started moving schools of bait, it was again the smaller fish that were first to respond, and their activity started to excite the schooling predators. One sign that the bait was in trouble was when the whole school of predators started defecating in virtual unison. Then they started hitting the passing balls of prey, again with smaller fish leading the charge. Only when the feeding was really in full progress did the bigger pompanos and permits get active. Interestingly, on a couple of occasions, when midsized individual barracuda tried to move in, even much smaller pompano would strike at the barracuda, driving them off.
Once the action of the small and medium fish had tightened the bait into large, tight balls, the big permit would slash up through them from below, circling back and down to pick up cripples to add to what they'd caught cleanly. That scattered the bait balls, until the quicker small predators could surround and reform them.
I drew a few conclusions that I think have given me some testable clues about trolling for springs. One is that big feeders are often stationed below the bait schools, be they herring, needlefish, or other juveniles, and they only stir their bulk when the target is worthwhile. Their tendency to swing back down after cripples means that if you have a wounded or dead-looking herring wobbling below a school of whatever bait, it has a good chance of getting whacked, and if it's a big herring, smaller salmon won't be able to ingest it. Another hypothesis is that since the smaller, quicker fish respond to a lure or bait first, circling back after a strike if you can do it without screwing up the traffic pattern pays rewards. More than anything else I've seen that influences trolling success, marking the spot when you get a strike, cutting back on long celebrations when you've landed that fish, and getting back to the bait as fast as possible to try for any tyees that got beat to the lunch is absolutely essential.
